POMEGRANATE

By David Nelson

At Pomegranate, the writing is on the wall – and on the ceiling, as well as on the personal checks some guests write to pay for dinner (does any other local restaurant still accept them?). Cash also can be traded for the restaurant’s Georgian-oriented cuisine; note that this Georgia is not the Peachtree State, but rather the former Soviet republic whose cuisine reputedly is the most refined in the Russian sphere. Guests always are welcome to bring pens, markers and even sets of crayons to Pomegranate, but shouldn’t plan on using any of these to sign a credit card slip, one of the few things on which a patron may not scribble his autograph since credit cards are not accepted.

Sleek, chic Cucina Urbana painted a graffiti wall to elevate its “cool quotient,” but that doesn’t compete in the least with Pomegranate, whose patrons have used the white plaster walls and the ceiling (standing on tables) as an enveloping canvas for multilingual messages, quips and gibberish, as well as dates and even phone numbers (don’t look for mine). There are sayings like “Voltaire Here,” which obviously is untrue, along with comments like “Shelyn, you missed out,” which would be true if the lady who skipped a dinner date otherwise would have shared in a heaping dish of vareniki dumplings.

The décor is calmer at ground level, where comfortable wooden tables are lighted with wicker-shaded lamps supported by such figures as a Revolutionary War drummer boy and a Charlie Chaplin-esque hobo on a park bench. Recorded music is mostly European vocals, and frequently sounds French. Sometimes it must be Russian pop, but only educated ears can be sure.

Serious restaurants almost always are designed as sensory experiences, but Pomegranate is unusually engaging. “Would you like a slice of cucumber in your glass?” the waiter inquired, adding, “It purifies the water.” Naturally, this led to the smart aleck query, “Does the water need purification?” which of course it does not. Oddly, the cucumber added a very pleasant flavor. The waiter, from Talinn, Estonia, adds his Baltic accent to the ragout of heritages that make Pomegranate unique among local eateries. Proprietor Marko Zhukov, who supervises from the bar at the rear of the dining room, is from Georgia, and chef Jon Skorepa, who blithely cooks the lengthy menu of Georgian and Russian specialties, says his background is Czech, English and Irish. Even the Russian black bread carries a passport, although it’s issued by Lithuania. Essential with many dishes, it is imported frozen and tastes utterly delicious spread with Skorepa’s garlic and herb-flavored butter.

The lengthy menu makes an entertaining read, since each item carries descriptions like “Beans! We love it. And with walnuts, ah.…It is eaten to set the appetite going” that follows the listing for lobio ($7.75). This smoky-tasting stew of beans, walnuts and other ingredients (the murky brew defies efforts to identify specific items) can be eaten as an appetizer, or in slightly more liquid form as a soup. Finish a portion all by yourself and you may regret having ordered an entrée. Since this comment is true of most starters, and because Pomegranate generally piles entrée plates high, sharing a first course makes sense for many guests. It is well to remember the restaurant’s motto, “Borscht by the bucket, vodka by the inch.”

After a guest at a nearby table enthusiastically exclaimed to the waiter, “There are flavors here I’ve never had in my life,” it became a challenge to select dishes that would show Chef Skorepa at his best. The waiter suggested a platter of six vegetarian appetizers, which frankly sounded overwhelming, although it was interesting to note just how many vegetarian dishes Pomegranate serves. To list a few, there are ajap sandali, a Georgian stew of eggplant, onions, green peppers, tomatoes, assorted herbs and something called “khmeli-suneli seasoning” ($7.75); Georgian eggplant salad ($10.75); and pkhali, an appetizer of finely cut vegetables flavored with herbs, lemon and garlic ($7.50). The menu notes, “Sometimes the mountain folk add beets and walnuts to this sprightly mountain dish,” but doesn’t make clear if Skorepa follows their lead. Vareniki ($10.25), plump dumplings served swimming in melted butter and nearly drowned in sour cream, can be ordered with potato-onion filling or an even richer mixture of potatoes and cheese. Either way, they’re tasty and quite filling.

“Everything tastes better with sour cream” supposedly is a common Russian saying, and Americans inclined to spoon a half-pint into a hot baked potato won’t disagree. It crowns the borscht, a soup of infinite variety that here contains beets, assorted meats, potatoes, cabbage and other vegetables, and easily constitutes a meal ($9.75; the menu also advertises a “vegan version,” which necessarily would not include sour cream). Among entrées, sour cream enriches the beef Stroganoff ($20.50), a dish that Americans seek out on Russian menus, and golubtsi ($16.50), the Georgian version of the stuffed cabbage rolls that are common throughout Eastern Europe and the Balkans. The sort of hearty food that must go down especially well on snowy days, the filling rolls contain a ground beef mixture and are nearly submerged in creamy sauce.

On Fridays and Saturdays, Pomegranate offers meats (pork loin and chicken cost $17.50, lamb $23.50) barbecued outdoors over various aromatic branches that evidently supply a marvelous aroma. Called shashlik, the meats first are marinated in yogurt or pomegranate juice. The huge menu also includes a well-spiced lamb stew called chanakhi ($19.60); Cornish hen split, flattened and fried under a flat rock ($19.50); and unique desserts like the tartly delicious wild cherry soup ($7.50). There are just a couple of wines by the glass, including a drinkable Georgian red.

2302 El Cajon Blvd.

297-4007

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